Who the hell do you sleep with?
by brooke1478
Summary: 4x03 extended
1. Chapter 1

Alex's POV

"Umm... Who the hell do you sleep with?" she asks, the tone of her voice teasing, but I sense an undertone of something more. Heat rushes through me as I reach for my glass and take a much-needed drink.

"What?" I scoff, hoping to seem appalled or indifferent, or something other than whatever it is I'm feeling.

"You know. You must be sleeping with someone all this time…" she continues, unfazed by my reaction. I feel lightheaded as she stares at me with those searing blue eyes. I wish there weren't so many people in this damn room.

"I've got people I see…" I smirk, taking a sip of champagne as I keep my gaze on her over the brim of my glass.

"Oh, that's cryptic," she says, smiling at me with a quizzical look on her face. "Is it anyone I know?"

My hands feel clammy as her interrogation continues. I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to talk about anything that doesn't involve the two of us. But I won't give in.

"Possibly. It's a small town," I say with a smile.

"I want names," she giggles, looking at me expectantly. She'll be the death of me. I know it.

I shake my head, though I can't help the smile that stays plastered on my face. "I think you've had a little too much to drink," I chuckle, and her face drops ever so slightly, impatience evident in the way she's looking at me now. I shift uncomfortably in my chair as she remains silent, her eyes scanning my entire face. I can't stop staring at her, wanting so badly to ask her what she's thinking. Why she cares so much who I'm sleeping with.

But before I can open my mouth, her gaze flits over my shoulder and her expression turns dreamy as she looks back at me. Her hand snakes behind my head, fingers tugging at the hair on the base of my neck and I can't breathe. She pulls me close, her lips pressing firmly against mine before breaking away too soon. My mouth opens to speak but she just glares at me; a warning. I'm so focused on her I don't even notice the man that approaches the table until he speaks.

"How are you two enjoying your meal?" he asks, and I force myself to snap out of the trance Norma has me in. I clear my throat, fixing a smile on my face as I reach out to shake his hand. "It's just great, Justin. Thank you again for having us."  
"My pleasure. I'm so glad I was able to meet Norma," he says, turning to her and taking her extended hand.

"I'm glad I could meet you too, Justin. Alex speaks very highly of you, it's nice to put a face to the name," she says, her voice sweet and genuine. Her gaze flits to mine quickly and the look in her eyes is mocking. My thoughts are racing, and I can't tell if it's the alcohol or her but I'm utterly useless in this conversation. I allow her to take the lead and settle back in my chair, watching as she keeps up the façade. Her hand rests casually on my thigh, and all I can focus on is the way her fingers trace the hem on the inside of my slacks. My body reacts before I can stop it. I settle the napkin carefully over my lap and distract myself by taking another sip of champagne.

I'm suddenly aware that she's speaking again, unsure how long this discussion has been going on and straighten up, taking her hand in mine to stop her torturous game.

"You'll have to bring your wife to our house for dinner soon. I'd love to meet her," she says casually, despite the hitch in her breathing when my fingers twine with hers. I smirk, happy that she's at least a little bit affected by me.

"We'd love to. I know she'll be excited to meet you as well," he says. "Well I'll leave you to it. It was lovely to meet you, Norma. And always great to see you, Alex."

"You too Justin. Thanks again. I'll be in touch about dinner," I say, squeezing Norma's hand a little too hard in retaliation. I catch her smiling at me from the corner of my eye and there's nothing I want more than to be alone with her right now.

He nods, walking away from the table, and Norma clears her throat beside me, bringing my focus back to her. Her expression has changed, her smile gone and the look in her eyes is unsure. She drops my hand as soon as my gaze meets hers and I'm reeling. I've never been this out of my depth with anyone. I try to keep it light though, smiling at her as I bring the glass back to my lips.

"Nice acting," I chuckle, hoping to get back to safer territory.

"Yeah, you too," she laughs, taking a sip of champagne.

I glance around the room, hoping for some excuse to touch her again. A woman at the table beside us looks over and smiles before turning her attention back to the man sitting opposite her and it suddenly hits me. I lean towards Norma, dropping my voice so only she can hear me. "You know we should probably keep holding hands though. People are getting suspicious."

She looks around, clearly seeing that no one is paying us any attention. I notice the tiny smile that tugs at her lips before she turns back to me. "Good idea," she whispers, her expression businesslike as she nods and takes my hand back in hers. I link our fingers, my thumb rubbing against the back of her hand as I continue to stare at her.

She tilts her head, one hand reaching up to touch the scar just beside my right eye. "How did this happen?" she asks, her finger rubbing against the puckered skin. I stay frozen in place, watching her watch me and my mind goes blank. I realize she's asked me a question, but I can't seem to form an answer. Not with her gorgeous eyes examining me so closely.

She meets my gaze again and a smile breaks out on her face, knocking the air out of me. "Alex? You in there?" she giggles, tapping lightly against my temple with her index finger.

I clear my throat, smiling back at her and shaking my head. "Yeah sorry, I- um, it was just a stupid fight a while back."

She stares at me, a look in her eyes I can't quite pinpoint. It looks like she's arguing with herself over something. She seems to decide to go ahead with her thought, squaring her shoulders a little and smiling slightly. "Can I ask you another question?" she asks, her tone teasing, almost seductive.

"By all means," I say before swallowing past the lump in my throat.

"Do you…" she stops, steeling herself before taking a sip of champagne and turning back to me. "Do you want to sleep with me?" she finishes, her gaze fixed on her plate. I can't breathe. Every muscle in my body freezes as I watch her. I can't process her bluntness. I feel a million things. Hopeful, because maybe she feels even a fraction for me what I feel for her. Fear, because maybe she doesn't, and she just wants me for sex. And curiosity because I can't figure out where the question is coming from or how long she's wanted to ask me.

When she's finally had enough of my silence, her gaze slides to mine, her expression impatient. "Well?" she persists, frustration lacing her tone.

I feel like my brain is short-circuiting. I can't will myself to respond, though I try. "I- uh.. I," I sputter.

"Never mind, don't answer that. It's just the alcohol," she interrupts, laughing humorlessly and rubbing the stem of her glass between her forefinger and thumb.

"Norma, I -," I begin, cut off again as she scoffs, holding up a hand to me.

"Really, Alex, forget I asked. It doesn't mean anything."

I watch her, unsure what to say or do. Relief flows through me as she downs the last of the liquid in her glass, reaching across the table for her clutch and says, "Let's go home."

I can feel the anxiety radiating off her, knowing she was still waiting for an answer, but right now isn't the moment to get into it.

After we say our goodbyes to the waitstaff and Justin, we step out into the cool evening, my lungs welcoming the fresh air as I take a deep, steadying breath. The fog in my brain clears as I hold her arm, steadying her as she climbs into the SUV. I want her. Maybe more than I ever have in all the time I've known her.

I walk carefully around the front of my car, feeling the heavy weight of her gaze on me. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this casual charade. When I slip into my seat, fastening my seat belt, I can feel her eyes on me. "Just give me a few minutes," I sigh, knowing she wants me to answer her previous question. To my surprise, she doesn't say a word, settling into her seat as she taps her fingers against her thigh to some rhythm I can't hear.

I pull out of the parking lot, turning the radio to the oldies station. George Michael's "Careless Whisper" pours out of the speakers as I avoid her gaze at all costs.

"I love this song," she whispers, and I'm not entirely sure she's talking to me.

I smile to myself. "Me too."

We drive in silence a few minutes longer until I find what I've been looking for; a private turnoff that will shield us from anyone passing by. I turn down the road, stopping just behind a tree and turn off the car and the lights in one motion. When I turn to her, she's looking expectedly at me, her chest slightly heaving with the shaky breaths she lets out. The silence is suddenly deafening.

I reach out to stroke the side of her face, staring deep into her eyes as I whisper: "Of course I want you." There being nothing else to say, I wait for her to speak. My fingers trace her cheekbones as I watch the expression in her eyes change from wary and insecure to dark and challenging.

When my thumb traces the edge of her jaw, her fingers wrap around my wrist, her body angling towards mine. Our lips meet, and I can't help the smile that breaks out on my face. She breaks away with a soft moan, but remains close, her hand clutching the back of my neck. "Why did you take us here?" she asks. If it wasn't for the teasing tone, I might have been worried. I lean towards her, unable to stop myself from kissing her again. "Because you're driving me crazy," I whisper, feeling a tremor shiver through her body. I push the hair back over her ear, my finger tracing the shell before I let my tongue follow suit. I tug the lobe between my teeth, and she sighs, her grip tightening on my nape. "You're drunk," I whisper in her ear, my lips deliberately brushing against her skin. I feel her shudder again, feel her erratic breathing on my temple and my body reacts of its own accord. I have to stop this now. This isn't a good idea.

"N-no I'm not," she slurs, unconvincingly. I can't help but smile at her defiant tone.

I pull back slightly, kissing her quickly on the lips but stopping when I feel her hand slide to my chest.

"Yes, you are. And I think we should stop," I chuckle as she pouts at me.

"Why?" she whines, trying to pull me back to her again. I'm flattered, and wildly turned on, but this isn't how I want our first time to happen. I decide to answer her honestly, letting the words pour out before I can talk myself out of it.

"Because I don't sleep with drunk women. And because I've wanted this for longer than you can imagine. And because I want you to remember every detail of the first time I'm inside you." The last sentence is a whisper.

I can't believe I just said those words. But she started it, and I deserve a chance to be as blunt as she had been at dinner.

Her exhale is sharp, her eyes darkening further as she glares at me. She squirms in her seat, giving away how affected she is. _Fuck_ she's beautiful like that.

"I will remember. And I won't regret it tomorrow," she says so confidently I almost believe her.

"Look if you still want me in the morning, then we can talk," I challenge, my heart fluttering with hope.

"Fine," she sighs, sitting back in her seat and staring out the window looking like a 10-year-old who didn't get her way.

I laugh, turning the car on and pulling back out onto the road.

She doesn't speak the whole way home, but every so often I feel her gaze on my face, see her body shift with impatience, and what I take to be arousal. We make it to her bedroom, where she plops down heavily on the bed, staring up at me with a smile that can only be interpreted as seductive.

"Stop it," I shake my head, unable to stop the smile that stretches across my face.

"Stop what?" she asks, feigning innocence.

"I know what you're doing, and it's not going to work," I reply, taking a step back to put some distance between us.

"I'm just laying here trying to go to sleep," she says, faking a yawn and turning a little so her dress rides up her thighs. I have to leave. I cannot give in. Not when she's drunk. She's never been this blatant about flirting with me and I'm still not convinced that she actually wants me.

"Alright then, go to sleep," I say, calling her bluff and heading for the door.

"Wait," she says strongly, stopping me in my tracks. When I turn back to her, she's sitting up against the headboard, her expression vulnerable, and a little sad. "Will you at least stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Something about her pleading eyes and the innocence in her voice makes me ache to comfort her. "Sure," I smile, walking back to the side of the bed and glancing around the room, looking for somewhere to sit. She slides to the far edge of the bed, patting the spot beside her.

I take her invitation, settling on the bed, but staying seated and watch as she reaches out to turn off the lamp. We're suddenly bathed in darkness, but as my eyes adjust, I can still see her, the moon shining through the window and making her hair glow like an angel. She's breathtaking. "Thank you," she murmurs, laying on her side facing me. I reach out to brush a lock of her hair away from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear.

"Any time," I smile, knowing I'm being too vulnerable with her but unable to stop myself from touching her. I remind myself once again that she's drunk, and this has nothing to do with me. She's just lonely.

She catches my hand in hers, bringing it to her lips and presses an open-mouthed kiss to my knuckles. My heart thunders in my chest; my hand frozen in hers. I'm in physical pain. I've never wanted anything more in my life. "Lay down," her tone authoritative even in a whisper. Before my brain can catch up, I stretch out, turning on my side toward her and holding her hands in mine. My gaze flits all around her face, her lips turning up in a smirk. "You're staring," she accuses, though her eyes are still closed.

"You're beautiful," I say simply, not even trying to pretend she's wrong.

Her eyes open slowly, and she watches me carefully. I can tell she's only seconds away from trying to seduce me again, so I shake my head slowly. "Tomorrow," I say with finality before she has a chance to speak.

She sighs exasperatedly, but after a moment closes her eyes again. "Good night," she mumbles; sleep quickly descending on her.

"Good night, Norma," I smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Norma's POV

I'm aware of his presence the moment I wake; feel the pressure of his hands around my own. The mattress shifts with the movement of his heavy breathing. When I open my eyes, he's still facing me, his eyes closed, and I can't help but smile at his peaceful expression. We're both still fully dressed, and I have no awareness of the time, though I'm guessing it's probably very early in the morning, given the fact that it's still dark out. The night comes back to me in pieces. I remember him pulling down a path, telling me he wanted me and kissing me senseless. I remember how much I wanted him in that moment. And how much more I'd wanted him when he turned me down because I was too drunk. I can't remember the last time someone treated me with so much respect. If such a thing had ever happened.

I shiver when I remember how he'd whispered that he wanted me to remember how he felt when he was finally inside me. Heat pools in my belly, arousal spreading through my entire body like wildfire.

When I turn back to him, his eyes are open, and he's watching me carefully. I can't speak, can't form a rational sentence in my lust-filled thoughts. I've never seen anyone so beautiful in my entire life. His eyes bore into mine, his pupils blown wide, like he's reading my mind. Like he knows exactly what I'm thinking; what I want. But he waits patiently for me to decide my next move.

My hands slip out of his as I throw my leg across his hips, pushing myself up to straddle him. His hands slide up my thighs, pushing up the skirt of my dress just slightly. He stares at me with longing, his gaze feeling heavy enough to crush me. I offer him a smile, one that tells him I'm happy and I want this.

He looks at me with concern, his eyes unsure. As I lean down, my forearms resting against his chest, my lips inches from his, he stops me. "Tell me you remember what we talked about last night," he whispers, his voice strained, like he's in pain.

"I remember everything," I respond, gazing into his eyes, confidence coursing through my veins. The sound of his voice send shockwaves straight to my core.

"Tell me you want me," he sighs as my lips brush softly against his.

"I want you," I moan when his fingers dig into my hips. "I've always wanted you."

He kisses me a millisecond later, his tongue swiping into my mouth unhurriedly. I clutch at his shoulders roughly, trying to pull him up into a seated position. He catches on, wrapping his arms around my waist and sits up while keeping his lips sealed to mine.

"Undress me," I sigh when his lips leave mine to slide down my throat. He doesn't skip a beat, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of my neck with swift accuracy. He drags it down to just above my hips, reaching up to cup my face in his hands. He stares into my eyes as he drops his hands to my shoulders, pushing the fabric down my arms. The dress pools around me, leaving me exposed in just my bra. For a moment, I feel nervous, vulnerable, and he must have picked up on it because he lets his gaze fall to my chest, brushing his hand against my collarbones and whispering, "so beautiful."

I clutch him against me, my face pressing into his hair as I shove his jacket off his shoulders. He helps me drop it to the floor beside the bed, before grasping the material at my waist and pulling it over my head. I feel him harden under me, my hips grinding into his of their own accord. His answering groan sounds like a plea.

His clothes have to go. I need to feel his bare skin against mine. So, I loosen his tie, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand while massaging the hard muscle of his chest with the other. I kiss him feverishly as his hands sweep up and down my sides, his fingers teasing the clasp of my bra. "Tell me you're okay," he whispers, his hands static against my back. He wants my permission before he exposes me further, and it makes me reckless with wanting him.

"I'm more than okay," I whisper against his temple, while I unbutton the final button of his shirt and pull it open to expose his bare chest. With a flick of his wrist, my bra comes open, hanging loosely between us. I lean back a bit to let it drop off my arms before flinging it behind me. I press my bare chest against his, the hardened peaks of my nipples brushing against his chest hair. I can't help the shaky sigh that escapes me as he presses wet kisses against my shoulder.

Without warning, he flips me onto my back, a surprised gasp falling from my lips as my legs drop open around his hips.

He settles between them, his lips crushing mine, hands gripping my hips hard while I push his shirt down his arms. He helps me, dropping it to the ground when it's finally free of his wrists. I'm mesmerized by his torso, my hands sliding down to his abdomen. He twitches beneath my touch; his breath ragged. Holding himself still above me, he lets me examine him, all the while watching me carefully. When my gaze returns to his, he leaned down, kissing me softer this time and melts into me. I reach between us, tugging at his belt and fly. I can feel that he's still worried, so I whisper into his ear as I lower his zipper; "I want you, Alex."

"_God_," he groans against my neck, his hands sliding up to cup my breasts; his erection pressing against my sensitivity. My lips tear from his as I release a shaky moan. His touch is too much. I've never felt this aroused with anyone in my entire life.

I grow more and more impatient, just wanting him inside of me as soon as humanly possible. My thumbs tuck under the waistband of his pants and boxers, desperately tugging at them to free him. He shifts his weight onto one arm as he reaches down to help me. He kicks his pants down his legs as far as they'll go, letting his erection spring free. I lick my lips in anticipation, pleasantly surprised at his size. My fingers wrap around his length while I let my tongue trace over his lips. As he groans against my mouth, his hips pumping to the rhythm I've set, a swell of emotion sweeps over me. He's the most perfect man I've ever known, and it makes no sense that he wants me. That I have this effect on him. But I can't let that thought affect this perfect moment. Not when he's writhing so perfectly above me, groaning my name.

Suddenly, he pushes up to his knees, struggling as he pulls his pants and boxers completely off, tossing them on the floor with the rest of our clothes. I finally have a full view of his naked body as he looms over me, and I can't believe this man is in _my_ bed. That he's hard and shuddering just for me. His focus turns back to me as he kneels between my thighs and sweeps his fingers up the tops of my thighs. My breathing turns to gasping as he folds his thumbs under the waistband of my panties and begins tugging them down. He looks ravenous as his gaze washes over my whole body. I feel beautiful and confident under his gaze.

When we're both fully naked, he lowers himself to hover above me again, brushing his fingers over my opening to make sure I'm ready for him. I shudder when I feel his fingers on me, clutching fiercely at his back. "I need you now, Alex," I beg, breathlessly. "Please," I sigh.

He grips himself in hand, pressing the tip of himself against my throbbing, aching clit. "You drive me crazy," he mumbles, his voice thick with arousal. His words spur me on, my legs wrapping around his hips and tugging, bringing him closer. He takes the hint, sliding into me a few inches before steadying himself on shaking arms. I squeeze around him, trying to draw him deeper but his hand shoots out to pin my hip to the bed. "Slower," he pleads with me. I wrap my arms around his neck, bringing him down to meet my lips in a deep, sensual kiss. "Deeper," I coax, my tongue tangling with his. He slides in deeper, hissing out when I take his bottom lip between my teeth. We fit together so perfectly; I want to cry. I can't believe how absolutely complete I felt with him on top of me; inside me. He reaches the hilt, rolling his hips as his teeth graze my jaw. He groans against my flesh, a sound of complete euphoria. It's all too much. His slow pace has me hurtling toward the edge faster than ever before.

Everything he does, every sound he makes is utter perfection. _Why haven't we done this sooner?_

I'm vaguely aware that he's speaking, the pleasure taking me to another place entirely. I can only make sense of some of it. "You feel so good," "I've wanted this for so long," "You're so beautiful," are the phrases he repeats into oblivion as he thrusts in and out of me agonizingly easy, kissing every inch of my skin he could easily reach. I feel wanted, desired, safe and happy for the first time in the presence of a man and I fucking can't get enough of him.

When he takes a pebbled nipple into his mouth and my fingers tangle into his forest of black hair, I cry out, clutching him fiercely and beg him to come with me. I know I can't hold off much longer and I need to share every minute, every second of this with him.

"Let go, baby. I'm right behind you," he groans, keeping his steady pace as he rubs against my sensitivity with a calloused thumb. His teeth graze against my nipple and I fall over the edge, my body shivering and convulsing around him as I scream his name. It takes me a moment to register the tightening of his hands at my hips as he spills into me, biting softly on my neck and groaning my name.

I don't release him from my death grip for several moments, my chest rising and falling in sync with his. His hands are in my hair, soothingly stroking the locks as he presses kisses against my chest.

I never want to move, never want to be anywhere other than here, with him for the rest of my life. In this moment, I love him.

His breathing slows, my fingers running soothingly through his hair. We don't say a word and yet I've never felt more comfortable.

He raises up, looking down at me with a smile that melts my heart. He looks so completely content and relaxed. I've never seen him like this before. Leaning down, he kisses me gently, his tongue licking into my mouth. The heat builds between us again as our kisses grew more and more sloppy. He pulls out slowly, leading kisses down along the side of my neck, over my breasts, his tongue dipping into my navel as he heads south. My fingers clutch the sheets beside my hips as I wait for him to reach his intended target. "Alex," I breathe, the anticipation making my mouth run dry. "This was a really great first date."

He chuckles, his breath ghosting over my inner thigh. "Only took us two years to get here," he says before nipping the sensitive flesh.

"Definitely worth the wait," I sigh, my fingers tangling into his hair as his lips climb higher.


End file.
